


There Ain't No Fairytale Ending

by lostinmymindforever



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Dean, F/M, Implied/Referenced Underage Prostitution, M/M, Panties, Prostitution, Strippers & Strip Clubs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-27
Updated: 2014-02-27
Packaged: 2018-01-13 22:47:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1243393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostinmymindforever/pseuds/lostinmymindforever





	There Ain't No Fairytale Ending

Dean's body is covered in sweat, glitter, alcohol, and other fluids he doesn't want to think about. He's naked, save for the lacey pink panties he wears, his cock pressing obscenely against the too tight fabric. He grinds against the pole, a look of half contempt/half indifference on his face as he moves to the music.

A man walks in, sits close to the stage and Dean feels himself growing hard. He licks his lips, moving his hips in a parody of sex, prowling towards the man, a smug smirk on his lips.

"Come here often," he purrs into the man's ear, lips brushing the earlobe.

The man swallows hard, nervously. 

Dean sees the light glint off the wedding ring on the man's hand and grins. 

The man licks his lips, pulling out a stack of bills before saying, "Is this enough for the private room?"

Dean nods, taking the cash and the man's hand. He leads him into the back room, closing the door behind them. Grinning he shoves the man down onto the chair in the center of the room, and turns on the music before making his way over to him.

"What would she think if she knew you were here? What would your wife say?"

"Dean..."

Dean laughs, grinding down onto the man's lap. He leans in, nips on his earlobe, whispering, "She has no clue, does she, Sammy? Has no clue that you come to me again and again. Has no clue how much you get off on fucking me."

Sam curses under his breath, hands tightening on Dean's hips. "It's not you she has a problem with, it's this..."

"What? That I'm nothing but a stripper? Nothing but a whore?"

Sam shakes his head, "You're not a whore, Dean. You've never been a whore."

"I get paid to be fucked, I'm a whore, Sammy. It's all I'm good for anymore."

"Dean, you could stop. I could take care of you. You've done enough for me, let me take care of you."

Dean silences Sam with a kiss. It's an old argument, one they've had ever since Sam graduated college and opened his practice. And each time Dean turns him down, not because he likes this life, being used as nothing but a hole to fuck, nothing but a piece of meat, but because he can't do anything else. 

It's bad enough they do this, bad enough they have these little trysts, but if Dean let Sam take care of him he'd feel useless. It started when they were young, before Dean dropped out of school. They'd needed money and Dean was pretty enough to get tricks. And after their father had passed away after taking out Azazel, Dean had kept it up. Saved up enough money to pay for Sam to go to college, so Sam could have a good life.

Sam grabbed Dean's face in his hands, looking Dean in the eyes. "I love you, Dean. I want to take care of you. I want to be able to have you more, to wake up with you, to hold you, to BE with you whenever I want."

"Jessica..."

"She knows, Dean. She's always known. Just like I've always known about her girlfriend. Dean, she might be my wife, she might be my business partner, but she's not the person I love. She's not you."

Dean bites his lip, eyes closed as he grinds down against Sam. "Okay. But now... just one more time for old times sake."

Sam grins, yanking down those panties, freeing himself from his slacks. He moans as Dean sinks down on his cock, hands tight on Dean's hips as he begins to thrust up into his beloved big brother. "That's it, that's my baby. Fuck, take it so good, always so good, Dean."

Dean's about to reply when he feels a hand strike him in the face hard.

He wakes with a groan, looking up into the eyes of his boss, more like owner.

"Who told you you could sleep, whore? Get your lazy ass up and make yourself presentable, you've got customers."

It was only a dream, always the same dream. At least this time it didn't end like reality did, with Sam's brains splattered across the walls when he tried to buy Dean's contract from him.

It's been years, years since the night Dean said yes and lost everything. If only he hadn't been so selfish, so ready to believe in a happy ending. Maybe then he could be truly happy.


End file.
